


Five Times

by Adry1412



Series: Army of Boys [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Army of Boys Verse, Carol is a goddess, Child Adoption, F/M, Fluff and Humor, I suck at tagging, Love at First Sight, Mentions of past child abuse, Merle is a sweetheart, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Smut, Romance, Some Mild Angst, Straight Sex, They are great parents, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:50:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15697686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adry1412/pseuds/Adry1412
Summary: The five times Merle and Carol get interrupted during sexy times and the one time they don't.





	Five Times

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! How you enjoying the series? You like it? I hope so!  
> This here is just a short little thing about the frustrations of parenthood. Poor Merle and Carol can't find time to get jiggy with it smh.

If there was one fact no one mentioned to Merle about being a father, it was just how quickly his sex life would evaporate.

Now, Merle wasn’t one to kiss and tell or invent crazy stories about doing it on roofs or on airplanes but he’ll admit he’s been around the block in his time. While he never considered himself a very sexual person, he couldn’t deny his wife’s passion. Back in his one traffic light hometown, being a Dixon was a reputation all on it’s own and no one ever look him over twice, let alone wanted to fuck him. It wasn’t until he left and ran into the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen that he felt that pounding in his chest and heat in his belly.

Carol was something out of one of those cheesy romance novels Merle would never admit to reading behind convenient stores and mechanic shops. Prematurely greying hair and a fondness for 50 cent cowboy love stories connected them easily that first day, her eyes lighting up when all their similar traits matched up and the two found themselves talking for almost four hours behind the 7/11.

Carol drove him mad with desire, the hidden beast in him drooling and panting when she flashed him those lustful glazes she gave when the mood struck. He would be a fool to lie and pretend she didn’t stir something inside of him, some wretched version of himself banging on it’s cage bars; a hurricane tearing at everything in its path to get to her whenever she dropped her sugar sweet voice an octave real close to his sensitive ears. He was a slave for the love she gave him, a hopeless man dying of thirst and begging for a single drink, a single taste, at her feet. He worshipped her as the goddess she was and to be in allowed in her bed, her throne, was more than he had ever hoped for. Just being at her side was more than he swore he deserved and he remembered the day he met her, the day she convinced him he was worth something.

But above all she radiated this aura of goodness and purity that made him stand up straight and wipe his sweaty hands on his work pants extra hard. He feared touching her, not wanting to dirty her choppy hair or smear her porcelain skin with whatever filth ran through his blood. She was a force of nature in her skinny jeans and camo jacket, her smile punching him in the gut and he felt so raw when she looked at him. He was exposed in her eyes, heart somewhere in his throat when she looked him over and asked him what he was reading, but he didn’t mind. He felt inferior, a voice in his head laughing at his weak attempts only to shut up when she reached out to touch him.

Merle fell in love that day with the woman who sat on milk crates and shared a Coca-Cola, blue raspberry, and cherry Slurpee concoction with him. He knew from the second her hand held his that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her as happy as she made him in that small moment behind a random 7/11 in nowheresville, Georgia. Hell, he could barely wait a full year before asking her to take his name with a rose gold and ruby ring and a question that stumbled out his nervous mouth even if he meant every syllable. His last name that was once spat like a curse now sounded like angels singing when paired with hers, the tiny hyphen looking more like a lifeline than a separation.

Carol was Merle’s lifeline. She was his happiness, his joy, the reason he got up in the morning and why he went to sleep with a smile knowing he’d get to wake up again and see her lovely face beside his. She gave him the family he never knew he wanted and if he were to be a bit fresh, the family that sometimes drove him up the goddamn wall whenever his sons decided to be little cock blockers.

Merle knows Carol would kick his ass if she ever heard him call them such a ‘dirty word’ but it wasn’t entirely wrong! Don’t get it twisted, he adored his sons, and whatever fatherly instinct he swore he never had came to life the second he first saw Paul’s picture, but sometimes a man’s gotta be alone with his woman and these little shits were professional level blockers. Might as well give them medals for it.

And as he walks back down the hall, after tucking the quartet into their respective beds, he smiles at the highlight reel playing in his head.

\----  
Paul was only five years old when they filled out the endless amounts of paperwork to adopt him. Merle had felt an instant connection to the boy, something in him wanting to be the best goddamn father he could be. He remembered the night before they’d go to pick up their boy, how he laid in bed and stared at the ceiling making a silent promise to himself and his family to never be like his old man. He loved the days spent with Paul, throwing a ball back and forth in the yard and watching his tiny face light up whenever he caught a fast one or running around the house to play hide-and-seek and ignoring the little giggles that were a dead give away of where the boy hid. Hell, even with his two front teeth missing, the boy had a smile that could draw moths with it’s brightness.

He loved tucking Paul in at night, sitting to cuddle with his son to read a story and watching the sweet way he sucked his thumb when his eyelids became too heavy to keep open. He remembered sneaking off to his own bed afterwards one night, leaving the boy with his Spiderman night-light on and a kiss on his forehead. He guesses the rush and anxiety was why, in the first few months of being a new father, the idea of sex hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d been so focused on Paul and making his little boy happy that it wasn’t until he retired to his bedroom and found Carol in nothing but his work shirt, barely buttoned, that he was reminded of his desire for his wife.

His mind went blank when she smiled at him, pupils dilating as the world disappeared except for the tunnel vision pointing straight at her. He guessed that why, in his haste to rid himself of his clothing, he’d forgotten to lock the door. He guessed that’s why, with his head under the sheets and between his wife’s legs, he didn’t hear the creep of wood when Paul decided knocking wasn’t his forte.

“I’m thirsty.” Merle swore they almost jumped out their skins. His poor wife gasped so loud, damn near crushing his head when the tiniest voice in their home spoke out in the dark room. He remembers the mad dash, both he and Carol stammering as they pulled on whatever clothes they could find as bright green eyes stared in bewilderment and confusion of their movements.

He still remembers laying down and trying to calm his racing heart, wiping his mouth and trying not to make eye contact while Carol took their boy downstairs for a glass of water. Kid was damn close to seeing something he really should have.

\----  
It seemed to Merle that he and Carol had finally figured out a way to sneak around with Paul in the house. In the months after their little… incident, they had become pros at hiding their adult activities. Locking the bedroom door at night was a necessity and if a moment struck during the day, the couple found that a well timed Disney movie and bowl of caramel popcorn were perfect distractions to keep their little boy busy while they snuck off for a quickie.

But like in baseball, sometimes even your star batter will get bested when after a seven inning killing, a new pitcher will come up to the mound and throws an unexpected curve ball. That pitcher for Merle came in the form of two twin boys named Rick and Shane.

They had just gotten their routine down pack when the twins came home, the brothers being so shy in their first few months that Merle had doubted either of them had the capability of interrupting one of his and Carol’s more private times. But then again, he should have known better. Those two were thick as thieves and so full of energy it wasn’t a surprise that they had a hard time getting to bed most days. The twins loved story time, always begging their father for another and another even as the clock on their wall ticked on into the night. Merle would put his foot down after three stories, tucking their sheets extra tight and kissing their foreheads and ignoring their pleads for another story when he stalked off to bed.

He should have expected something to happen on the first night both boys dozed off after only the first story but at the time all he could think about was crawling into bed and loving on his wife with all he had. And at first, everything seemed to be going just fine! He and Carol had started messing around, keeping their voices low while they enjoyed themselves and loving the lack of rush in the moment. They had time, they thought, so they took it slow.

Of course, that wasn’t what happened. Unlike with Paul and their interrupted foreplay, the twins seemed to have sensed the very moment the couple had finally connected intimately to run down the hallway and bang on their door. He cursed when Rick and Shane’s scream crying came through the door, pulling out and away from his wife to get some clothes on. He willed Lil’ Merle down before unlocking the jiggling doorknob, barely getting a second to ask what was wrong before the boys rushed in and jumped onto their bed.

A nightmare had woken Shane up, the one half of the twosome deciding to wake his brother and tell him every detailed of the monster he dreamt of and probably scaring the living hell of him. Both boys were inconsolable after that, Rick panicking about what his sibling had said and Shane being too scared to fall back asleep and back into the horror. They insisted on sleeping with their new parents that night, hugging each other close while they situated themselves right in between Carol and Merle.

Hell, Merle thought as his damn blue balls ached, he felt like crying along with them. And if Carol’s stiff lip and hard eyes meant anything, she was just as frustrated as he was.

\----  
After a while with the twins and Paul, Carol and Merle began to find their footing again in their love life. Sure, it was hard at first, having three young sons was enough to push pause on and all sexual activities but the pair was determined. Carol outright refused to not have sex properly again, stern in her will to be satisfied. ‘Quickies are fine’, she had said one night, ‘but they’re not enough.’ And god, Merle was inclined to agree. Nights with one or all of the boys in their bed just wasn’t what either of them wanted. They had to figure a way to make it work without losing too much sleep because the only thing worse than being interrupted was being woken up at the asscrack of dawn by overeager boys was when the two of you were up until way past a normal hour trying to finish while exhausted. Damn, Merle thinks now, he had gotten way too familiar with that early morning feeling during those tricky first months.

He remembers the only night he and Carol got into bed, both eyes snapping from the clock to each other when they realized all the boys had fallen asleep early. Clothes were thrown off without a second thought, the couple barely containing the smiles from their faces when the blankets were pulled up and lips meeting in the dark. They tried to stay quiet, lips locking together to swallow any sounds while hands roamed and became acquainted with parts they’ve longed for during the hectic running arounds of day to day life. Merle remembered groaning low when they got into it, remembers the intoxicating feeling of his wife’s body and the way she sucked his fingers to keep quiet in their moment before a splashing sound echoed from the hallway.

They froze, sweaty and needy bodies still entwined, with ears trained. They didn’t have to wait long, Paul’s small voice whining through the door and spurring them both into action. “Mommy… daddy… I threw up…” And fuck, he really did. Right there in the hallway in front of their door.

Paul had woken up not feeling too good, tummy hurting with indigestion from some bug he didn’t know he had, and wandered to their room. He felt nauseous and honestly Merle gave him credit for how long he held onto it before spewing, even if it was the last thing he wanted to clean up at that moment and the fact that the bathroom was technically closer to his room than they were but… kids will be kids, he supposed.

That time though, he didn’t really care about the frustrated tingling of his lower belly, more focused in that moment to help his son and clean the floor. Neither of them even thought about sleep or sex that night, the couple staying up and taking turns rubbing Paul’s stomach and checking his temperature while he dozed feverishly between them.

\----  
Somethings are more important than sex, Merle thinks when he remembers the one time it wasn’t the boys, who interrupted one of their romantic moments, but a phone call.

Denise was one of the women in charge of boy’s home where the couple had adopted Paul and the twins. A sweet lady with a plump face and a smile that put you at ease, she quickly became good friends with Carol and would come by sometimes to see the trio her officer fiance Tara had helped rescue from their homes. The two women kept in touch, Merle becoming accused to coming home and seeing them at his dining room table, coffee mug in hand and exhaustion from dealing with dozens of boys evident on her round face.

Merle remembers Denise’s proud smile when she first came over, her eyes trained on how well Paul was doing in their home and laughing when he told her silly jokes. ‘He’s really come out of his shell’, she had said, grinning wide before asking if they had been considering adopting any more children. Of course, now Merle knows she had only asked because the twins had recently come into the group home and desperately needed parents like himself and Carol. The two made a good pair, Merle even admitting to himself that he was a better father than he had given himself credit for, and after a long talk had decided that they were ready. Denise believed the twins would fit perfectly in the growing home and Merle couldn’t deny her judgement. The woman was correct and no more than a few visits, a million phone calls, and a handful of months later, the twins came home with them. Though much to Paul’s dislike, but that was another story for another day.

A year came and went, Denise coming by every other week to visit the rambunctious trio of siblings and Carol and Merle trying to figure out ways to keep the spark in their bedroom alive without losing too much sleep. They eventually got into a steady and satisfying routine, both parties working together to settle the boys into bed at a set time and coming together after the lights went out. And while it makes Merle think of Murphy’s law and the mind-bending ways the universe comes up with new ways to throw them curveballs at them, he can’t say he hates the night Denise called a quarter past ten.

Merle and Carol had been discussing adopting another child. A daughter, Carol had wanted, to not only even out the number of children but to add some damn estrogen to the hectic house of boys. His wife had never been a very ‘girly’ woman, never too fond of typical pink, glittery things or spa days with manicures and face masks, but even Carol couldn’t deny her interest in some stereotypical activities. Shopping and gardening were some of her favorite things to do and Merle understood she probably craved someone to do the activities with. Hell, the boys would rather try and dig their way to China than plant petunias and shopping was a headache on it’s own with their constant growing and the boredom fueled tantrums they’d throw at any store that wasn’t Toy-R-Us.

And Denise knew what the couple was looking for, knew of Carol’s desire for a daughter she could relate too, so her call in the middle of their lovemaking had promised that their searching had finally come to an end. They trusted Denise to find the perfect fit for their home even as Merle’s eyebrows creased when he heard the woman say their little girl’s name. Daryl.

Daryl? Wait, that can’t be right. They had been looking for a girl! Sure, that one actress was shared the unisex name but so did the singer from that 80’s band his wife adored. Hell, in the most recent years the name was almost always used for boys. Denise must have had the wrong number, right? He remembers taking out Carol’s laptop, the couple going to their email for the file being sent to them and staring as the picture loaded.

Every lingering feeling of their interrupted love-making and any ounce of doubt in Denise’s suggestion were wisted away when the couple came face to face to the bruised, blue eyes of the boy they knew was theirs. Merle remembered the look in his wife’s eyes when she turned to him, a silent conversation shared between them before she lifted the phone again and told Denise to send over the paperwork.

Of course, now Merle knows that while Daryl may not have been the daughter Carol was looking for, he was everything the couple had wished for. The perfect fourth for their little quartet of kids, the boy was as sweet as sugar and loved all the activities his mother held dear to her heart. Merle always smiles whenever he steps outside to see his littlest helping his mother garden, oversized sun hat and tiny gloves both protecting him from the sun and matching his mother’s outfit. And hell, the boy doesn’t even fuss when they go shopping; Daryl’s always excited to try on clothes, often modeling for them all in the dressing room and pointing pieces he liked out with eager hands. His youngest had done a 180 since they adopted him, turning from a trembling, anxiety ridden kid to the a vibrant and bright burst of sunshine.

\----  
Although, Merle thinks, Daryl does have his moments where the wide eyed victim they met him as comes up to the surface.

Merle’s not blind to the struggles of his children. He knows that emotional and mental scars run deeper than any physical cut or bruise ever could and he understands that the four boys didn’t come from great homes; knows that forehead kisses and bedtime cuddles were not enough to wipe away the damage their previous parents caused. Fears and anxiety plague them, the twins codependency and Paul’s panic attacks when they tried to take him to daycare being just some of the more obvious affects left over. Merle doesn’t know as much as Carol about psychology and therapies and all that mumbo jumbo, but one thing he does know is that sometimes his boys have a look in their eyes that tells him he cannot leave them alone in that moment.

He’d lost days of work before, staying home when one or both of the twins had had a rough night, or Paul really didn’t want to go to preschool on a particular day, and looked at him in that certain way that read too much like the way his own grey blues did when he was a kid. They were crying out for help, a cry for affection and validation and silent in the way their eyes shook when they met his. And while the look was coming around fewer and fewer times as they grew and got more comfortable, Merle never let himself forget how it looked.

And the one night, just a few weeks after bringing the littlest one home and the sky decided to part and come down in buckets, he saw that look again. The way he and Carol had seen it, the grey clouds after dinner were a promise of some thunder and heavy rain loud enough to drown out whatever noises they couldn’t hold back when they crawled into bed. The twins and Paul were good during storms, the oldest actually enjoying them and claiming they made him sleep better with the constant drumming noise. And for all the couple knew, Daryl would be fine. The youngest boy had been so good about staying in bed at night, never coming to disturb them even if he couldn’t sleep. Yeah, it’d been a bit strange for Merle to go to his room in the morning and find the boy already up, pacifier stuck in his mouth and playing silently with whatever stuffed animal was closest to his bedside.

But then the rain came. And with it, thunder.

The noise was enough to conceal Merle’s groans, thunder timing almost perfectly with his wife’s muffled moans as they moved beneath the sheets. But not even the deafening thunder was enough to hide the sounds of quick footsteps and tiny whimpers when their littlest decided enough was enough and sprinted down the hallway. Muffled sobbing escaping past his pacifier and coming under the door as he knocked as hard as his miniature fists could.

Merle was up like a shot, throwing on a pair of boxers and giving Carol a moment to fix her night shirt before unlatching the lock and grabbing the toddler when he tumbled inside. A few years of parenting under his belt had taught Merle that the best thing to do was calm his boy and send him back to bed, maybe turn on a noisemaker to mute the sounds of the storm raging outside, so he and his wife could go back to their nighttime activities. But one look into damp, desperate, and terrified eyes told him he couldn’t do that. No, that process only worked for the twins when they were a bit younger and jumpier.

Merle knew Daryl needed them in that moment, eyes telling them both what his lack of language skills couldn’t. His youngest could not be alone in the rainy night and while it tore at him to not be able to satisfy his wonderful wife, he knew she would understand. Hell, Carol was already reaching to calm the baby before Merle could even get the door closed. Something in the booming noises outside had reminded the little one of the still fresh scars in his mind and what kind of father would Merle have been if he didn’t spend the rest of the night holding Daryl close, stroking his hair and cooing whenever lightning filled the room or thunder screamed out and made him shake harder.

Neither he nor Carol slept that night, both staying with their baby until the storm passed in the early morning and his tiny breathing finally evened out. He stayed home that day, texting his boss that he’d log on in the afternoon to work remote but not wanting to leave his bed and risk waking his boy.

\----  
Merle pauses when he reaches his bedroom, hand on the doorknob as he looks down the darkened hall. The whole house sounds of sleep, tiny snores sneak out from under doorways and a noise machine rumbles quietly from where it sits near Daryl’s bedside. He smiles, pride and contentment filling his chest at the knowledge that he’d done good as a father that day.

He shimmies into his room, chuckling as he talks over his shoulder and locks the door. “Took an extra story for Daryl but the kids are all tucked in and asleep now.”

“Fucking finally.”

Merle flinches, eyebrows creased. Carol was not one to curse, always keeping her vocabulary clean and scolding both he and the boys whenever one of them let a bad word slip. Heck, if they had a swear jar he’d be broke by now… So to hear his wife say such an awful word, something was up. He turned around quick, heart jumping into his throat when he met her lust filled eyes.

She smiled at him, his own dry lips parting slowly as he took in every detail. Leaning back on her elbows she toyed with oversized work shirt’s buttons, fingers brushing them gently as she licked her lips suggestively. Legs bent and closed, the pale skin hiding what he craved and Merle couldn’t control himself any longer. He fell to his knees on the mattress and crawling over to her when she beckons him, a single finger curling to bring him closer.

Merle isn’t going to try and deny his attraction to his wife, isn’t going to pretend their lovemaking is anything less than everything he could have ever wanted. Merle’s man enough to admit he’s weak for her, body crumbling and falling at her feet whenever she touched him and panting desperately when her lips steal the very breath from his lungs. He’s given everything he can to Carol, surrendering his body, heart, and soul to the woman with lightning blue eyes and a taste for his Coca-Cola, blue raspberry, and cherry mixed Slurpee concoction.

Merle loved Carol. Not just for the way her body welcomed him or the way she knew every one of his buttons and just how to push them to make his eyelids explode in colorful stars, none of which he thought were half as bright as she was. Merle loved the woman who gave him everything and as they move under the bedsheets, undisturbed on the one night their four sons all fell asleep early, he can’t help but confess his feelings once more. He whispers, voice hushed as he tells the world, his world, “I love you, Carol.”

**Author's Note:**

> Four parter coming soon! Got the first part allllllmost done. For now, look out for more min drabbles!
> 
> And as always, please please please comment and lemme know what you think. Every comment warms me and I can't thank you guys enough. Thank you and love you!


End file.
